Fallen From Grace
by AvengerNerd3
Summary: Pre-Thor. Fandral picked the wrong woman to betray... After breaking the heart of the woman Loki loves, he sentences the warrior to live life alone, and without the strength he prides himself on having. When he crashes to Earth amidst a powerful storm, the Asgardian casanova will meet the one girl who just might change the ways of this warrior fallen from grace...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

A venomous voice echoes in his head as he plummets. "You are a vain, selfish man who cares for no one but himself," it hisses. "You do what you please, you take whatever and whomever you want, with a complete disregard of consequences." A pair of cold hands hold him by the throat. He can feel the strength - precious strength the warrior valued above all else - being drained from his body.

"You are strong, Warrior, but you are weak of heart. You do not deserve your title."

Stars dance in front of his eyes.

"You do not deserve your praises."

His consciousness wanes as the cold hands tighten.

"And you do not deserve the love you are so readily given."

As his grip on reality slips away, he hears the voice whisper, "They shall never find you. I promise you that_._"

Wind rushes by him at alarming speeds, but he can't bring himself to care. He is numb to the pain, the icy winds dulling his aches. Funny, he thinks, how easy it was for his attacker to bring him down. One of the fiercest fighters Asgard had ever known - a member of the Warriors Three, no less - powerless against a man who had barely fought a day in his life; but now, falling through the heavens, he couldn't recall the face of the man.

Not even his name.

A brief flicker of blue warns the warrior that he is nearing... something. Be it land or water, he knows not. Mentally, he braces for impact; his body is too weak to follow suit.

He feels the heat before he feels the impact, but when he does, he _feels_it. Searing pain makes flames dance behind his eyes. Every part of him is screaming in agony, but his voice is nowhere to be found.

'So this is how it ends,' he thinks as he feels the dark wave of unconsciousness washing over him. 'This is how I die; Fandral, member of the Warriors Three, dies at the hands of a faceless man...'

~~~~~~  
What shall become of poor Fandral? And who was it that managed to get the upper hand on him? Find out in the coming chapters of "Fallen From Grace" !


	2. Chapter 2

_Just to say: I try and write words out how certain characters would say them, keeping their accents in mind. I am aware that words like "gonna" and "ya" are not actual words._

**Chapter 2**

~Abby's POV~

"So you just found him there?"  
"That's what I said, Col. Why is that so hard to believe?"  
"Well, people don't just decide to go for a walk in the middle of the biggest storm of the season. Also, did you see his wounds? Ain't no way he walked out there on his own, ankle twisted the way it is."

The warmth of the fireplace caresses my back, aiding me in my attempts to forget the chill of the wind. "Look, I didn't say I had a reason for why he was there. I just said I found him. I wouldn't have been out there at all if you hadn't run off."

"I-I had my reasons..." Col blushes.  
"Oh really," I cock an eyebrow at my younger brother. "Does that reason happen to be named Julie Mackinroe?"  
"Look, I know what you're gonna say, but Abby... I'm nuts about her. Please give her a chance. For me?"  
I sigh. "Alright, no need to get sappy on me. I'll give her one chance. _One_. If she screws it up, I'm chasing her out of town with Daddy's shotgun."  
"You're the best, sis," grins Col.

A slight groan draws our attention to the couch. Our visitor (Storm Boy, as Col nicknamed him) is moving slightly, holding his side. His brow is furrowed in obvious pain.  
"Hey," I say softly, moving to his side. "Take it easy. Everything's gonna be alright. You're safe here." His movements halt at my voice, eyes fluttering open. They're blue as the sea, and sparkling with curiosity.  
"Whe-" He winces.  
"Col," I say, turning back to my brother, who hadn't moved an inch. "Go fetch him some water, will ya?" He nods and takes off. I settle onto the floor beside the couch, keeping my eyes on our guest. He has dusty blonde hair, reminiscent of the wheat fields not a mile from my home. He is tan, but not overly so. His oceanic eyes never leave mine, burning with what I perceive to be a mix of confusion and curiosity. "That's my brother Colby-Lijah Lockwood," I explain, gesturing toward the door. "I call him Col. My name's Abigail, but everyone 'round here just calls be Abby. Do you remember what happened to you?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but I stop him. "Don't hurt yourself, partner. A simple nod will do," I say, offering the broken man a smile. He grins back at me, and nods.

"Do you know where you are?" He shakes his head, lips pursed  
"Do you know who you are?" He nods.

"Well, mister, let me help fill in what's missin'. You're in a small ol' town called Winston. It's right around the middle of Tennessee, about three hours from Nashville. Is that where you're from?"

He shakes his head. It's plain to see that he's fighting the urge to sleep. No wonder, with all he's been through today. "You don't have to stay awake on my account, mister. You been through a whole mess of things today, and I take it that sleep is just what you need."

He grins at me again, and mouths the words, "Thank you."  
I grin back. "You're welcome." I give his hand a small squeeze. "That didn't hurt you, did it? I know you're hurting pretty bad, but I didn't think your hands were hurt too bad. Scraped up, maybe, but I-"

This time it is Storm Boy who squeezes my hand in a wordless sign of comfort. He's alright. "Sorry," I blush, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I ramble when I'm nervous. We don't really have guests here, much less guests who show up bleeding and half-dead. I'm not used to taking care of injured people - that's my daddy's job." His eyes watch me as I speak, absorbing my words like they're vital to his very existence.

"Sorry it took so long," says Col, bursting through the door. He is soaked from head to toe, blond hair clinging to his head. "Pa wouldn't let me out to the well, what with the storm ragin' and all. I had to wait until it cleared a bit. Here you go."

Carefully, as so not to spill any water, he hands me the glass. "Alrighty, this oughta help make your throat feel a little better," I say, tipping the glass slightly so Storm Boy can take a drink. "Want more?"

He shakes his head. "I'll leave this here, just in case," I say, setting the cup beside his temporary bed. "As much as I'd love to stay and ask you more questions, I reckon you're more tired than you're lettin' on, and could use some rest. Col will bring in some more blankets for you."

Throwing another log on the fire, I head toward the door.

"Fandral."

I turn back. "Pardon?"

"Fandral," he says hoarsely, but still managing to grin. "My name is Fandral."


End file.
